Our Own Little World
by Alx-Senpai
Summary: Gabranth has feelings that- try as he might- he is unable to suppress. Rated M, Gabranth x Larsa, From Gabranth's Point of view. Also, no spoilers!


**AN- So yeah. New to , and yet I already have a few starter fics! I notice that the category of Larsa x Gabranth is lacking in content, so I was like 'Let's do this thiiiinnngggg.' **

**I'm obsessed with Gabranth. Every time I look in my bestiary, I go to his little profile thing and click JUST so that I can see that face~ ^^ I**** am also obsessed with Larsa, but upon the event of him coming to my house, I'd just steal his clothes so that I could have the perfect Cosplay...**

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**Okay, let's pretend that totally didn't just happen :D This fic is from the point of Gabranth, and he is narrating. I know I get a little sloppy in some points, but it's Gabranth x Larsa, for goodness sakes. My crappy writing doesn't matter. I'll probably eventually edit if I find anything wrong.**

**Suggested listening : Hope's Theme- Final Fantasy 13!  
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**DISCLAIMER : Final Fantasy 12 belongs to Square Enix!**

**(Enjoy!)  
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I had been sick and shaking most of that week. I hadn't felt quite right, and my head spun every three seconds. Still, I performed my duties. I had to. There was nothing that could keep me from them, or from _him_.

The one I loved.

He probably didn't know at that time- he and his older brother, who brooded over him, looking for a way to sustain the innocence that was overwhelming when you saw him, or breathed his scent in. Protract the kindness that was behind every word he spoke. Uphold the love in his heart.

The love Larsa's brother saw, at least. Vayne saw goodness purely in Larsa, and none other. Vayne whisked him away many nights, and sometimes I could hear grief-stricken sobs coming from the boy in the room, telling his brother to stop. My mind only raced to horrible thoughts, of Vayne circling the boy in a chair, Larsa's little gloved hands over his ears, trying to ignore the truth spilling from Vayne's mouth- about war, about the other heirs to the throne who had been slain, and how empty and jaded Vayne had become. He always made it about himself. He was vain that way. Gods, he was _Vayne_ that way.

"_You'd never understand, with all that love I give? Your world- Nay, My world is in your hand…_"

The one eve I was permitted to attend, to stand next to the door, I was so bewildered and confused. He did just as I believed him to do- Larsa sat on the chair. At first, it was all laughs. Larsa's seemed hollow, somehow, and Vayne's laughs were just so barren, and void of all emotion.

I did not want to see my love end up like his brother.

The laughs and smiles turned to Vayne, so pleasantly speaking of the death toll of the war so far, of what horrible things were happening- people sent to Nalbina and being executed, and the loss of money in Rabanastre.

These things Larsa already knew, and knew them well. But still, something caused the boy's spine to shake and shiver, not willing to give in to Vayne's pressure. His eyes constantly darted to me, as if to tell me he was in distress.

Was he not giving in because of me?

No, that was greedy of me to think.

Vayne taunted him more, abusing him with his words, all the while circling him, and I watched, hateful towards Vayne.

He just smiled a sincere smile at me, eyes not empty, yet full of fire.

Like he knew what we both wanted.

It was true, in some way- We both wanted Larsa, perfect and innocent, yet not naïve- We wanted to feel his silken hair, and we wanted to touch his waist and tell him that everything would be fine, and no harm would come to him.

Yet what separated Vayne and I was the simple fact that Larsa didn't want to be touched by Vayne.

Brothers, yes, but I detected each flinch, his face obviously deterred from his brother.

When I would pat his head, or grab him to lift him while we played in the garden, he leaned into my touch.

No. Gods, what was I _thinking_?

This was despicable of me.

I tuned back into the conversation Vayne was having with Larsa, who was now sobbing, looking at the floor, his arms covering his ears fruitlessly- Vayne only spoke louder.

"You stop me from feeling empty, brother! Do you not understand? You… You'd never understand, would you? I have a single reflection in my head, and it's about being perceived by none other than you!"

Larsa's eyes flicked from me to him, his look to me so pleading, as a rescue. I stepped forward and Vayne looked at me with sincerity again, as to tell me to stop. And I was forced to. I gave Larsa a look from behind my helmet, and I felt my face get hot and I pushed back tears.

Vayne reached a hand down, to caress his face or brush Larsa's disheveled hair away, and Larsa quickly swatted the hand away, disgust for his brother. Blowing it out of proportion, Vayne did what was so proper to do in this time- An eye for an eye. A slap for a slap.

Reaching his hand out and striking his brother, he let out a disdainful huff, rage in his every breath. I stepped forward a few steps, and Vayne's look turned to understanding of how I had to do what I did.

"Off- Away with you."

Larsa jumped from the chair, running straight to me, his little sobs muffled against my armor, his hands wrapped around where he could reach. Vayne nodded us to leave, regaining his instable composure, and I lead Larsa out of the room.

We stopped three doors from Vayne's chambers, out of earshot of him, so that I could pick Larsa up- He was still crying, and I knew that whatever he had said while I was lost in my thoughts was too much for him to carry.

Walking back to my chambers, locking the door with one hand and then carrying him to where I slept, I allowed him to lie on my bed, sheets curled into 'c' around his body, Larsa's knees to his chest.

I un-hinged my plate, and in this time, the boy's weeps turned into sniffles, and tortured breathing. I climbed in next to him, his body so close to mine. He looked up, his eyes puffy from crying, and I smiled so softly. It was not normal for me to smile, and he thought that perhaps I was laughing at him.

"No, no… I just want you to feel at ease, Lord Larsa."

He didn't look too happy about my comment.

"Larsa, Gabranth. Lord is just limply attached for those who do not know any better..."

He laid his head to my chest, and I could feel his heart pound, causing mine to quicken as well.

I began to murmur things, reassuring of my adoration for him, and this made Larsa happy.

"Negative words shouldn't affect you." I said, running my hands through his hair. Larsa, as usual, leaned into it.

He knew how much I adored him. How I would lay my life on the line to save him from anything, no matter how minor.

I would die for him.

He smiled, looking up to me.

"I adore you, Gabranth."

Nuzzling into my chest, the boy shut his heavy eyelids, so wanting of sleep that couldn't come fast enough.

Yet I lay there, petting his dark russet locks, soothing him so that he could sleep evenly. He slept too easy for a boy so young that had so much responsibility, and was so distressed every day. Although he knew he loved his father deep down, he felt shunned by him, like he was the lap dog of the son that he feared. Living with it was most likely the hardest part; and I saw this. He murmured in his sleep, dry weeps, his dreams probably haunted by horrible things, and I held him closer to my chest, my lips pressing to his head. That was only the smallest part of what I wanted from Larsa- It was so despicable of me to want things like this. Every touch I gave him as my heart ached for more; my mind told me that it was so uncouth- so bawdy of me to want this out of such a nymph of a child.

And there I was, thinking of it again, now no better than trash.

I allowed myself to sleep as well, the boy cupped to my body, arms around him.

I prayed to the gods that my treasonous thoughts would diminish… or that Larsa would recognize and accept them instead.

When morning broke, I slipped from my bed and hinged all my plate but the gloves, and laid Larsa on the daybed that had been constructed in my quarters just for him, as he spent the night so often. Drace had suggested them, as she slipped into my room, expecting alone time to talk to me of the latest news, but she found Larsa and I laying asleep clutching eachother. Larsa had awoken upon her arrival, and he was so flustered by her unannounced entrance. Apparently, they had an exchange of words, and neither would tell me what the other said.

I kissed his head, my lips so light over his forehead, and he stirred so slightly. His dreams must have registered it, and a light haze of crimson painted his cheekbones, and I covered him in a sheet from my bed. He enjoyed sleeping next to me greatly- I had been with him since he was so little, and since I was leader of Ninth Division I was his guardian. My thoughts and preternatural wants did not develop 'till so much later- After one of the possible heirs to the Archadian throne 'died'.

I knew Vayne had slaughtered them, heartlessly.

That night, Larsa fled to me, the first time our bodies had ever touched apart from hands held and my hands ruffling his hair affectionately. Then I was so terrified of upsetting him, causing him to throw a tantrum (a silly fear, as Larsa never had been the sort given to such outbursts), or to ruin our fragile balance of understanding and warmth. In a way, I was more worried now that our love would collapse under itself, either I doing too much or too little to slake him.

I waited patiently for him to awake, his hair a large mess, curling at some parts in an animal's nest of hair, garnishing a small smirk from me. Larsa had trained his eyes to every facial expression I made, knowing what a smile was and what was a frown. He knew every little bit my face moved, so slight. I handed him a comb, the only sound my plate, a steely sound echoing from the walls.

He worked it through his hair, its sheen restored, locks falling so lightly on his shoulders. I walked over to him, kissing him on his head again as I tucked hair behind his ear. Surely, my touches wouldn't go unnoticed for much longer. What I was doing was so contemptible of me, and I abhorred myself. But I had to show love to the boy who wanted escape from his situation; to make him happy was my only goal.

I fixed my helmet on, its shamanistic horns resembling that of the mask of a Jaharan warrior- theirs of raw animal, mine of heavy, ornate plated. I latched on my gloves and we departed my chambers: he walking to his own rooms as I went to report to Vayne. I pleaded to the gods as I walked that his temper subsided, and that he was alone.

My pleading went unheard.

If there was anyone in all of Ivalice that I could profess fear of, it was Cidolfus Bunansa. The man sent a shiver down my spine, every word he spoke dripped with poisonous insincerity, his graying hair a testament to his wise mind. A slimy, bespectacled man, whose every word sounded like it was going to be a jagged fragment of a scheme. He had the creature he called '_Venat_'. It was an Occurian, apparently, and I had obtained information on its kind long ago. _Venat_ was rogue, so it seemed, and it followed Cid. I had also heard of other Magister Judges come under its corruption, dense with a fulminating mist; if it was even there at all, and not simply a figment of a mind cracking.

Cidolfus was pacing near the window ledge, murmuring something to either himself or to 'Venat'; I could not tell. Vayne was sitting at his desk, looking over stacks of paper, much like Larsa did on a day to day basis.

I bowed, my plate clinking under my movements. Vayne smiled, his head flicking downwards in a very, very slight nod. He began to spew to me the latest information about resistance and people that needed to be 'taken care of to ensure the safety of not only House Solidor but the entire Empire.'

I could shift the responsibility to Ba'Gamnan.

Although I do uphold Judgment and Justice, I am not above giving things to a shady figure, such as Ba'Gamnan and his… 'Troupe'. Although I do not trust him, he is firmly in my grasp, as well under the grasp of the Empire. No matter how much of a stubborn 'person' he may be, he would ne're betray the Empire, and even if he did, I would be unable to watch without a small smile on my face. So long as I had Larsa, at least.

He dismissed me quickly, and I bowed once more and left, not a word escaping my mouth. I despised not being able to vocalize what I wished to say- But Vayne did have power, and lots of it. Although his father was still alive, it was like watching small child of an Imperial or a Judge try on the helmet and gets that taste of glory, and of power. Vayne, however, seemed too accustomed to it.

I let go of that idea, and walked down the vast halls, to the door that lead to the great veranda that was Larsa's study, looking over the royal city of Archades- The city that was his, that was in his hands, and yet it did not make him happy. At first, I could not possibly see why it made him sad, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw that Archades was already a part of Larsa, and too much was overflow. The handsome terrace was covered in flowing water features and flowers, and featured an abundance of plants and vines, covering the corners. They had been this way since Larsa was born- A time which I remembered, very vaguely. I was only 23, then. I will admit that I did not like Larsa as a very small child- A nuisance, if you will. If I had known all those years ago what I knew now, I would have been kinder to Larsa.

"Ah, Gabranth."

He knew when I entered. It was that emotional response- Of what emotion, I am not sure, but I would like to think that it was of sudden safety, in a hostile time. I walked to stand by him, there to provide comfort. He smiled up at me, and I detected a slight distance in his eyes, to which I nodded slightly, and it seemed to bring him back. He always had that detachment when I wore my plate, I think. Detachment springing from his inability to see my face in daylight; I only treated him to my face at night, if he went to my chambers as he so often did. He seemed distracted, though- Every few seconds he looked behind his shoulder, to glance at me, and he would return to work with a smile, only to look again a moment later.

Surely, he was as in love with me as I was with him.

I at least wanted to think that, as to dilute myself. He would no longer love me if he knew how much of a broken, shattered man I had become. You could call it a lock of confidence on my part, but something in me wanted things to go badly, while the rest wanted Larsa to share these feelings.

"Are you all-right, Gabranth?"

I realized that Larsa was speaking to me.

"Yes, my lord... I just became distracted."

I could see it vexed him when I said 'Lord' or any such titles. I nodded to him, and he frowned slightly, as if disappointed that I saw him in such a way. Taking my hands, Larsa stood up, and began to walk- I was powerless. I followed him, past Imperial guards, out to the gardens, past the hedges and in to a place that you couldn't find unless you stumbled upon it. A large tree provided a canopy, so that if Vayne looked from his windows on the left side, high above us, we went undetected.

I was thoroughly confused. Larsa sat on the ground, close to the tree, patting a spot next to him- A beacon for me to sit, my back to the tree.

"I wanted greatly to bring you here, Gabranth, to speak with you in private."

Admittedly, I did not like the sound of this at first. My mind raced to deplorable thoughts, of him knowing the ways I kissed his skin while he slept, or how I wanted to acknowledge my love to him so desperately.

"I have faith, in what I feel in my heart. Although we see eachother every day, yes, and there are those nights…"

He looked from me, in slight embarrassment.

"The nights that I dream things- Things about you- that cause me to blush when I recount them… And the nights where you and I just lay there, in lightning and rain, no Magister plate, no helmet, no cares… Just our own little world- And it consumes me, Gabranth."

I thought that he meant he felt smothered. I began to stand, but I felt his hand through my plate, and my face flourished with a blush. He moved towards me, placing his hands on my helmet, struggling to pull it off. I put my hands over his, aiding him.

He was unprepared for the ease of which I was able to pull my helmet off, and it threw Larsa forwards slightly, and our faces were only inches apart. He looked at me, eyes full of… wanting- of desperation.

I saw that look every day in the mirror.

Larsa stared for a moment, examining my face now that he was closer than he had ever been, lifting a hand to touch me.

He moved back a bit suddenly, flustered, still sitting in between my legs, hands on my chest plate, running gloved fingers over the design.

"Gabranth, what I… What I wanted to say…"

He seemed unable to form his words, and instead, he grabbed my hand and began to unhinge and unfasten the glove- I sat there, not helpless, but willing to do whatever Larsa wanted. I was just his loyal hound, protecting him and the empire under any circumstances.

He put one of my palms to his cheek, and I stroked it with my thumb, my other hand now resting on hiss chest, the feeling of his heart through is clothing.

"That. That is what it's like when I think of you. Do… do you understand?"

I did.

Leaning in, my lips met with his in the first romantic meaning of the gesture. I felt his tongue against mine, and I found my heavy plate both a gift and a curse, hiding both my heart beat, and my arousal.

I hummed into his mouth, causing him to moan in response, a soft and sharp breath signaling that he was relieved that I wanted this, too. We sat there, forgetting time, kissing. No one came looking for us. I felt, with my bare hands, his body and his skin past just his hands. I was always so afraid to touch his stomach and to run my hands up his shirt, but now nothing seemed to be prohibited. My mouth worked trails on his stomach, and down to his pant line, sucking and kissing through thin bloomers, my hands pushing his legs apart from the thighs. He attempted to stuff his hand down my plate, but I mere chuckled- An impossible feat, but not entirely out of reach. I did not attempt any further at that time.

We had the whole day, kissing and fooling around, touching things that were not meant to be brought up in modest conversation. It was another week- a week full of pulling eachother into corners to steal a small, chaste kiss, and locked doors that provided me time to pull Larsa's tunic up and kiss his stomach- before we got our night. Our opportune moment. As we lay under our hidden tree, the horizon threatened a storm, fulminating black clouds. We looked to eachother with excitement, kissing more chastely. I deplored myself every time I realized that this was, for all intents and purposes a _child_. A child who knew nothing of the adult world, or about courtship. And I prayed. I prayed as hard as I have ever in my life, beseeching the gods to forgive me.

I knelt in front of my bed, knowing that I would succumb to the pleasures of his skin on this night, praying to the Gods before and after to forgive me of this despicable sin. Larsa walked in as I was praying before his arrival.

Resting an un-gloved hand onto my shoulder, he kissed my cheek, breath smelling of the sprigs of mint he had eaten from his garden in obvious attempts to make his mouth taste of them.

He smelt, however, of the fragrant soaps and elixirs he bathed with. His hair was still damp, and he was changed into his night clothing. Receiving news that both his brother and Drace were not around tonight, he was able to go all-out.

"This is a good thing." He said to me, as I took an inhale of his scent, turning my head to him- I did not see how boy of twelve could possibly be wiser than I.

He put a soft, bare hand to my face, touching my stubble tentatively.

"Nothing is wrong with what we are doing. I am as good as an adult."

I had never been so terrified in my life, but the look in Larsas eyes let me know that I had no right to be. I picked him up, my plate all shed, laying his back on to my bed and choosing a spot on his skin to begin biting and kissing across. He enjoyed it when I was dangerous. How his spine shivered, and his moans intensified, knowing that any second someone could find us or catch on our trail like hounds catch to the scent of blood. I was incapable of slaking his thirst for the danger, or the thrill. He wanted something intense- But he did not know what a kiss or two or three on his stomach and a closed-lip kiss was not dangerous. I could do more- So much more.

I think he realized this as I finished my kissing, shoving one finger after the other inside of him, and I told him that this was so ensure that I would not hurt him when we escalated. He nodded, grabbing at pillows and blankets to clutch them as I twisted, allowing him to vent his pain into his kisses.

I stopped when tears began to form at the corners of his eyes.

He shook his head, a smile now on his lips, trying to hide the tears.

"No, no Gabranth. It is not you; it is simply my body… I implore you to continue..."

I nodded, and continued. He moaned breathily, his lips moving in the shape of a name- 'Gabranth'.

I say 'a name', because by now, everyone knew my true name. I hope to gods Larsa did not know. Drace had 'accidentally' called me Noah. The name I shed. Shed because it held so many burdens- My traitor brother, and his ilk, as well as a memory of my homeland.

But as I pulled out, my hands strayed elsewhere, and the moans and cries intensified- although the very large door was locked and any threats to our relationship were not to be found, I still pushed my mouth over his when I heard anything in the hall.

As the night progressed, we just lay in that bed, fucking like a man and a woman would, my hips grinding and thrusting, so horrified that I would break him. And yet, we were both male. And Larsa was a child. If Larsa were much older, I would be allowed this if he expressed that _he _wanted _me_. Vayne himself had received visitors of questionable occupation of the male gender. That's because Vayne was sloppy. I kept my interests in Larsa, and Larsa only. No one ever suspected me in a malicious manor, really, other than Drace. She and I were comrades, yes, but she knew that I was doing _something_ with Larsa Ferrinas Solidor. She was unable to figure it out what, exactly. And that made her hideously jealous. Vayne also knew- But he seemed to get a sick sense of delight from it. There was the most horrifying part of our relationship as of yet, and once I locked the door, pushing him against the desk, kissing his thighs and between his legs through his pants. He pulled my head up with a still tentative hand, and kissed me. Just then, we both heard that ominous click and Vayne entered. He stopped in his tracks, but smiled and nodded.

"What a kind way to display your affection to your Guardian, Larsa."

He was either stupid, or he wanted to see us escalate.

Neither of us were about to give him that sick joy.

As I reached my climax, Larsa moaned in pleasure. He had already let go a while ago, still lasting the three hours we were in my bed. He lay on top of me, naked body like a cherub, kissing my face so gently. He was in pain, obviously, and I held him close to me. I allowed him to squeeze my hand to the degree it hurt, and he took it, squeezing with strength I had not seen in him physically. As if an apology, he kissed my fingertips, and every inch of my skin, just as I done to his. But this was preparation for other partners- I was not a fool. Larsa would not always be with me. I did not know then who he would eventually be traveling with- A renegade Viera, the brother of the soldier I stabbed during my masquerade as my brother, a friend of Larsa, my own brother- who Larsa admitted to liking the company of-, a fallen princess, and a _sky pirate_, who ended up playing kiss and tell with Larsa.

But as we lay there, kissing, not even a scrap of clothing on us, we were happy. The shattered pieces of my humanity seemed to gather, making me a whole.

What we were doing was inappropriate, yes, but nothing really mattered- except for the young lord to be with me, in my arms. Oblivious and un-afraid of a hostile future, kiss swollen lips and sweat glistening on his brow, with a smile meant only for me.

Only for our little world.

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**Didn't end it death, did it? No? Awesome.**

**SO LIKE TOTALLY. Review and you get free Gabranth hugs. :3**

**Up next is, probably, a post-game Al-Cid x Larsa. Because- admit it- when you saw that one doujinshi cover you were totally smitten. Don't worry, it'll totally be comedy. xD But I can't choose between third person and Larsa's point of view.**


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